Beauty of the Night
by Black Jinx
Summary: -She was beautiful, mysterious, and alluring. But above all, she was different.- Full summary inside, RagexOc ON HIATUS
1. A Tiny Kitten

**Title: **_Beauty of the Night_

**Summary: **_She was mysterious, quiet, and alluring. But she was never seen outside, at least only during the day. When Rage spots her only once, gazing through a window of the estate, he is fascinated by her. But what happens when he decides to truly find out who, and what, she really is? And does he dare to tell her what he is?_

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own KarakuriDouji or any of its characters. All oc's belong to their rightful owners._

**A/N: **_OMG, first ever RagexOC fanfic. Got off my spree of VicexOC finally. Please don't flame me, and I apologize for any OOCness or MarySue-ness._

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><p><strong><em>"Her blood coursed through my veins sweeter than life itself."<em>**  
><strong><em>-Louis, "Interview with a Vampire"<em>**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1 - The tiny kitten<strong>_

Rage walked silently in the afternoon sun. The streets were starting to become less crowded, the mass of people leaving much like the sun had been for the last few hours. With each passing moment, the sun dissapeared more and more behind the horizon.

The wrathful Douji sighed. If he was late to record again with Fussa, he would never hear the end of it. Almost on cue, he felt his phone silently vibrate in his pocket. 'Speak of the devil,' he thought.

Whipping out the small cellular device, he flipped in open and waited. "Yes?" he asked, annoyed.

"Where are you?" his master shouted at him from the other end. "You're late again!"

"I'm not late, I show up whenever I fucking feel like it," was what Rage wanted to say. Instead, he listened to Fussa rant on and on about why it was important to be on time to record his music, he could get fired, blah blah blah.

"Whatever. I'm on my way," Rage spoke, interuppting his master.

"Excuse me? How da-"

Click.

Replacing the phone back into his pocket, his gaze wandered to his surroundings. One of the houses that stood out was a beautiful brown victorian style house, black lining its windows and roofing edge. Many of the shades had been drawn shut, as though trying to block out any form of sight or sunlight.

The for-sale sign that used to be posted in the front yard had been removed. The old household had gone for a high price, much higher than what Fussa would pay for. A house that had been used for the nouveau riche and their extended families from overseas.

'What kind of potbellied rich mother fucker could own something like this?' the wrathful Douji wondered. Much of the roofing had been recently fixed, fresh paint added to its sidings, and once broken windows were now replaced with flawless glass panes. A couple windows were placed above the first story roof, allowing whoever now lived there a chance to sit on the roof and either sunbathe or stargaze.

"Armageddon!" he heard a man shout. Teal colored eyes looked over the brick wall that seperated the sidewalk from the yard, listening for the voice again. "Armageddon!" the voice sounded again. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty!"

'A cat name Armageddon?'

"You, boy!" Rage's head shot up towards the voice, seeing an adult walking over to him. The man looked to be about in his twenties or so, dressed in a black silk button-up shirt and black slacks with a brown leather belt. His hair was a dark brownish color, slick backed with either mousse or gel. Thick eyebrows lay above dark eyes. "Boy! What are you doing here?"

"Nothing, just stopping."

"There's nothing here for you," the man scolded. "Be on your way."

"Whatever," Rage mumbled.

"Wait a minute, have you seen a cat?" he spoke quickly, stopping him. "A little black kitten with amber eyes and a red collar. Bloodred."

"No."

"Oh. Thanks anyway." Rage watched quietly as the man walked away, returning to his search for the missing feline. The wrathful Douji got a feeling he was being watched. Looking back to the house, he noticed a figure looking out of the window at him from a window on the second floor.

He struggled to get a good look before the figure dissapeared from his view. Russet red hair was the only thing he spotted before the figure dissapeared behind the curtains. All that was left was a slight movement of the curtains, reassuring him that someone had truly been there.

"You still here?" the man shouted. "Off with you, surely you have someplace to be?"

Shit! Rage forgot all about the recording session! Taking off, the Douji hurried toward the studio.

Once he had gotten far enough from the household, the figure returned to her window, gazing at him as he dissapeared from her view.

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><p>"Sometimes I feel I've got to, get away. I've got to, get away," Rage belted into the microphone, slamming on the guitar. For some reason, Fussa felt the need to have him make another cover of Tainted Love. Marilyn Manson did a well enough job, why did he have to re-do it?<p>

Feeling annoyed, Rage slapped a hand on the guitar strings, stopping the music. "Something on your mind, Rage?"

"Remember that house a couple miles from your house? The Victorian styled one?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Someone moved in."

Fussa looked surprised. "Really? I didn't see anyone come to look at it. Moved in recently?"

"Yeah, real recent. The sign was pulled out today and the inhabitants have already made themselves comfortable. Dude was even out looking for a cat today."

"Cat?"

"Yeah. He name the thing Armageddon."

Instantly, his Master got a look of realization on his face. "Was the cat small? Black fur, yellow eyes?"

"He said they were amber, but yes. Why?"

"Be right back. Take a break." And with those last words, Fussa dissapeared from the recording studio. Rage let his head hang back, emitting a sigh of exhaustion. The image of the russet red hair wouldn't relieve itself from his mind, nagging his thoughts. 'Maybe the dude has a daughter or little sister.' When he thought about it, the man hadn't looked that old, so maybe it was more on the little sister end of the spectrum. 'Or neice.'

"This the cat he was talking about?" Fussa asked, holding up a tiny black kitten. The little feline was small enough to fit in his palm.

Exiting the small enclosement, Rage grabbed the cat from his master's grip. Fingering around the neckline, he spotted the blood red collar. On a golden id strip lay the word Armageddon. "Yeah, this is her cat," he spoke.

"Her?"

"I mean - their cat. His cat," he replaced, trying to cover his tracks.

"Oh, I get it," Fussa smirked, retrieving the kitten back from the wrathful Douji. It mewled quietly in his hand, wanting to explore the room. "There's a girl living there."

"No there isn't!" Rage protested.

"But you have reason to believe there is?"

"No."

"Rage."

"Alright, I think I saw red hair. But that's all I saw."

"Well," Fussa spoke thoughtfully, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "If there really is a girl there, she'll probably want her kitten back."

Rage thought. 'An excuse to sneak in? Certainly.'

**Please review.**


	2. More Found than Sought

**Choice of Music: Dream Trance - Vampire**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 - More Found than Sought<strong>

Rage and his master, Fussa, drove silently through the darkened streets to the Victorian abode. Little Armageddon, who was usually struggling in the Douji's grip, was now purring gently in his lap. He carefully scratched the kitten behind it's ear as it batted at a strand of his hair playfully. "Don't get to attached to it," Fussa teased, "it's not your own."

The Douji simply scoffed at him. What the hell would he need a cat for, he just needed the excuse to enter that household. The russet red hair, he wanted to know who it belonged to. That older man had been awfully protective of whatever lurked within the house, and he had wanted him gone before he had the chance to snoop.

As they drove within a block of the house, Rage could see someone standing on the front porch. A girl, or looked like a girl, stood in the dark of the porch, partially hidden in the shadows. Russet red hair had been tied into a lazy bun, and she wore a simple black sundress with blood red roses embellishing the hem. A collar of faux red gems decorated her neck and shoulders.

Slowing to a stop, Fussa and Rage simply stared at the girl. "That must be her," Fussa seemed to whisper, even though there had been no need to. The wrathfull Douji carefully stepped out of the vehicle, gathering the kitten in his arms.

Quietly, he began to walk towards the house, not taking his eyes from the girl. The way she stood, as though at rest, made her seem more alert than usual; like a cat when resting. He couldn't see her eyes or the full view of her face, she was too hidden.

Armageddon seemed to take notice of the girl too, as the little kitten gave off a tiny mewl. Immediately, her head snapped in his direction. Freezing, Rage locked his eyes with, what he hoped was, hers. The two stood like that for a few seconds before the girl retreated to the safety of the home.

Running to the entrance, Rage quickly trotted up the stairs. 'There is a girl,' he thought. Once the girl had taken notice of them, Armageddon had suddenly become feisty again, writhing to release itself from the Douji's arms. It's vocality had increased too, as though calling for her. "Calm down," he ushered the kitten. Knocking quickly on the door, he waited for the girl to return.

Instead, he was greeted by the man he met earlier. "Boy. You again?" he accused, glaring at him. "How many times need I tell you, there's nothing-"

"Is this your cat?" Rage asked, holding out the kitten.

Taking the tiny feline, the man kept his glare at the boy. "Thank you for finding her, but I must insist that you leave this premesis immediately."

"Oh, come now," Rage heard Fussa say, leaning against the doorframe. "We just found your daughter's kitten for her. Surely you can let us in for just a moment. Think of us as welcoming you to the neighborhood."

Holding the now still kitten in his arms, the brown haired man looked them both over, contemplating his choices. "You may come in, but you are not to snoop around my house." Slowly letting them enter the abode, Rage quickly looked around for a trace of her.

No girl.

Instead, they had been greeted by an elegant and simple living room. An abstract black and white rug covered most of the wooden flooring, with a black leather L-shaped couch and several black and white throw pillows. A vase containing red roses decorated the coffee table, several petal adorning the edges of the black surface. Calming lights hung from rectangular fixtures from the ceiling, casting a glow upon the room.

"Nice place you bought here," Fussa spoke, sounding interested.

"Yes, and it had gone for a price that we could afford," the man replied, setting the kitten on the floor. Instantly, the little feline scampered off to wherever her mistress might have been hiding.

"We?" Rage pried, hoping to get a little information.

"Yes. Myself and my wife had both been hoping to buy this place. However, she is unable to be here tonight due to business back home," he had replied calmly.

"What about a daughter?" Fussa asked. "We saw a girl on the way here."

"I'm afraid you must have been seeing things. There is no little girl here. By the way, who exactly are you?"

"Oh, forgive me and my poor manners." Fussa extended a hand formally to the man. "My name is Fussa Fusataro. I'm the music producer for a nearby company. This is Rage, one of my clients."

"Nicholas Strensky. Charmed."

"You mentioned that you had a wife back in your home country. Where might that be?" the wrathfull Master asked, sitting down on the couch. Sitting himself down next to him, Nicholas became prepared to explain.

"My family and I are originally from central Europe. Much of my kin have never been this far away from our home, with the exception of some lines that stray to America." While the two older men had been engrossed in conversation, Rage took this as his chance to go and snoop around the house.

Instead of lightened hallways, most of them had been lit with a couple votives. The soft glow of the candles cast flickering shadows upon the walls, dancing in the silence of the second floor. The scent of the votives drifted to his nostrils, giving him images of elegant dresses and handsome devils in an endless masquerade.

Piano music sounded from one of the rooms. Low, melancholy sounds entered his ears. A soft voice singing, companying the piano song.

Listening carefully, Rage attempted to find his way towards the sound. Pale fingers ran across the wall, looking for a door or entrance of sorts. Fingers gently ran over the knob, carefully and quietly turning it.

_A dark room. The russet red haired girl, onyx colored eyes with a piercing green ring around the pupil, black sundress adorned with bloody red roses. She made not a noise nor a movement, locking her eyes silently with his. The Douji simply stared, shivers running down his spine. There was something about her, something hidden about her. He reached for her, all sense of reason or rationality gone from him. Nothing mattered but her._

"What are you doing up here?" Nicholas scolded him, yanking the Douji by his arm. Instantly, it was like Rage had been snapped out of a trance.

"Wha-?"

"You must leave, now." The man dragged the Douji down the stairs, meeting Fussa by the door. "You both must leave now. It's greatly appreciated that you welcomed me to the neighborhood, but you are no longer welcome for the night."

"Maybe we could have a few drinks, now," Fussa spoke, trying to calm the other man down. "Boys will be boys, he can't help but be curious."

"He would do well to remember that it was curiosity that killed the cat," Nicholas growled. "Good night, sir."

The door was immediately shut in their faces. Rage thought silently. That had been a bit strange, the way he felt. "Want to explain why you did that?" Fussa asked, walking back to the car.

"Did what?"

"You dissapeared. For almost two hours."

"Two...hours?" the wrathfull Douji thought for a moment. "I was only gone for five minutes."

"Two hours, and you were found on the floor of the second floor hallway."

"Bullshit," he growled.

"Believe what you want," his master sighed, pulling the vehicle away from the curb. "It's obvious that you might have found than that girl you were looking for."


	3. Dreams of Blood

**Music of Choice: Vampire Waltz - Hannah Fury**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3 - Dreams of Blood<strong>

Rage tossed and turned in his bed, ready to rip his sheets apart. The image of the girl wouldn't leave his mind, leaving a dark imprint in the wrathful Douji's memory. No mattered how he situated himself, he couldn't remain comfortable for more than a few minutes.

Sitting upright, the Douji ran a hand through his hair, feeling frustrated. The way she looked at him with eyes like a predator's, ever so silent and watching him. Just watching.

Nicholas Strensky was hiding something, that much was sure. He knew he had seen the girl with his own eyes, but even when he had seen her the man still denied her exsistence to him. There was something about her that he didn't want to reviel to the two of them, and Rage wanted so much to find out what it was.

Closing his eyes, he let himself fall back onto the pillow, desperately wanting to fall asleep.

_A dark room. The russet red haired girl sat facing away from him. Instead of the sundress she wore earlier, she wore a gown made of the petals of bloody roses. She made not a noise nor a movement, as though she were focused on something. The Douji simply stared, shivers running down his spine. There was something about her, something hidden about her._

_"Who are you?" he asked, barely managing to speak._

_"You tell me," her voice stated. "Friend or foe?"_

_"Pardon?"_

_"Friend or foe? What are you to others?"_

_"I'm Rage. Who are you?"_

_"I am called many things. I am the Pontianak, the Tlahuelpuchi. I am a child of the night and the blood of your children." Standing, she turned towards him and began to walk. Her onyx eyes seemed to glow with the green that encircled them. Petals fell from her dress with every step she took, showing more and more of her pale flesh._

_Rage became incapable of moving as she pressed her hands up against his chest, sharp nails tearing away the flimsy shirt. His breath became ragged and heavy, feeling the soft skin press up against his._

_Throwing him with his back against her bed, she slowly began to crawl over him."Will you judge me as others have judged me? Burn me with fire or pain me with silver?" she asked, straddling her hips over his groin._

_His arms wrapped themselves around her waist, peeling away the dress of petals. "Will you tear my heart from my chest as many before you have?" The press of her bare body against his drove him to near insanity, feeling her sharp fingernails scratch themselves into his back. He threw his head back in ecstasy, his breath leaving him in deep breaths. Rage let out a moan as he felt her teeth sink into him, breaking through his faux skin._

_She gazed up at him, lips glistening with bright red blood. "Will I have to tear yours from you?"_

Rage snapped his eyes opened, jumping out of his bed. He could feel his heart racing in his chest, clothing plastered tightly to his skin. He shivered slightly, trying to steady his breathing. The image of the girl wouldn't leave his mind, blood dripping from her lips onto her chest, the dress of rose petals falling from her succulent curves.

He had to know her. He had to see her. Maybe he could release her from his mind then.

Quickly dressing in a Donnie Darko shirt and black skinny jeans, he quietly snuck from his bedroom and crept his way to the front door. If Fussa found him sneaking out again, he'd definately never hear the end of it. The last time he had snuck out of the abode was when to see an Otep concert, and they were making an exclusive stop in Tokyo. He had gotten the front row tickets from a co-worker of Fussa's, but his Master had been dead-set determined on him not going.

Closing the front door behind him, the wrathful Douji took off down the street, his sneakers striking the pavement. Rage sprinted down the street towards the neighborhood that held the girl, not once daring to stop until he could see the Western styled house.

The darkened household appeared to have its residents tucked away and sleeping the night away. Creeping closer, he could see something flickering against the shades of a room, possibly her room. Looking around, he tried to figure out a way that he could sneak in. Going in through the front door was outright rejected. He didn't know where Nicholas slept. _That_ was a mistake he didn't want to make.

Jumping, he gripped the edge of the lower roof and climbed his way up, careful to not make a noise. Barely making a sound, he walked closer to the flickering window.

A rustling of the curtains made Rage freeze, thinking he might be caught in the act. Instead, little Armageddon jumped up on the windowsill, pawing at the glass. He gave of a sigh of relief, slightly happy for the fact that it was only the tiny kitten.

Armageddon's amber eyes stared at him for a moment, watching him intently. Then, like he wasn't there at all, the kitten jumped away from the windowsill and dissapeared behind the curtain.

Crawling closer, Rage looked to see if he could spot her. Through the small openings in the curtains( courtesy of Armageddon) he could see a couple candles flickering away on a nightstand and caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a baby grand piano with the lid closed.

But no girl.

Pressing his hands against the glass, Rage quietly slid the window open. It was a miracle that it was unlocked. Just barely having enough room to crawl through, the wrathful Douji let himself crawl through the opening. Hiding in the curtains, he quickly closed the window behind him, for a reason he couldn't fathom.

Turning past the curtains, the Douji was met with a sharp blade at his throat. It was a european style gothic dagger, embelished with black diamonds and blood red rubies. The weilder of the blade was the girl herself, holding Armageddon in the crook of her opposite arm, the little kitten purring away contently.

"What have we here?"

**Please review.**


	4. The Different One

**Choice of Music: Nightlife - IamX**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4 - The Different One<strong>

"I ask again, who are you?" the girl asked. Rage struggled to open his mouth, fighting for words that failed to come to him. The girl was tensed up, waiting and ready should he attempt to do anything. Everything seemed to just be stuck in time.

He took one step towards her, and everything seemed to happen all at once. Darkness filled the room, the clang of the dagger dropping onto the floor. The smell of smoke explained the source of the darkness, candles blown out swiftly. As for the girl, she was gone, seemingly disappearing into the darkness. Without warning, he felt himself shoved backwards into the window, glass fracturing at the sheer force.

A strong hand gripped his arm tightly, dragging him from the room. The soft glow of votives illuminating the end of the hallway seemed to be the only source of light in the area. The closer to the other end they came, he looked up to find out who was dragging him. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

"This is an absolute outrage!" Nicholas shouted, not once relenting on the forceful grip he had. "What the hell possessed you to think that you could just wander into my house at this time of night! What caught your eye, boy?"

"What?"

"What was it that you were looking to steal?"

"I wasn't going to steal anything!"

"Lies." Entering the living room, the man practically threw the Douji onto the couch. "Do not move, boy."

"Who was the girl?" Rage questioned him, watching the man pick up a phone. Most likely to call his Master, no doubt. Fussa would be infuriated.

"I've told you before, there is no girl here," Nicholas growled. Noticing his attire, Rage was surprised that the man was still in his slacks and dress shirt from the day previous. No pajamas, not a thing was changed.

"Then what about the girl with red hair? The one who the kitten belonged to?"

"There is no girl here! And if there was, it would most certainly be not your business!"

"I think it is my business if she tried to attack me!" Rage shouted back, standing from the couch.

"She was not trying to attack you!" Nicholas retorted, not careful of his words. "She was only trying to protect herself." Realizing what he just said, the man pinched the bridge of his nose. "You must forget I said that."

"Why?"

"Because there have been too many problems, too much trouble," Nicholas spoke. Pushing the Douji, he quickly ushered him towards the door. "If you have found your way here, then you can find your way back." Opening the front door, the Douji was quickly shoved out onto the porch. "Goodbye."

"Wait!" Rage spoke, pushing his foot into the door, "What's her name?"

"It doesn't matter," Nicholas uttered quickly, trying to shut the door on him.

"What is her name?" The man hesitated, contemplating the question.

"It's Vivian." And with those words, Rage allowed the man to shut the door, stepping backwards. The click of a deadbolt seemed to practically seal him away from the interior of the household, hiding what remained inside.

"Vivian," the wrathful Douji mumbled, trying the name himself. "Her name is Vivian."

Running off the porch, he stopped on the sidewalk when he felt as though someone was watching him. Looking up into her window, he could see the broken window and slow moving curtain. The girl, Vivian, gazed out at him, trying to hide among her drapes. A hand pressed up against the glass gently, dark eyes studying him. Rage simply watched her back, raising his hand to wave slightly.

He almost failed to notice it before she disappeared once again. A small smile, then a flutter of curtains, and she was gone. Rage smirked slightly to himself. Vivian, there was something about her. It was different, new, strange. Dangerous.

"I'll be seeing you later," he mumbled, jogging off down the street. No, not towards his own home. Fussa would be pissed, and that was not something he wanted to deal with it.

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><p>The next thing he knew, he was being rolled off a couch and onto the hardwood floor. "What the hell made you want to crash here?" a voice growled at him. Opening his teal eyes forcefully, he could see a wild mass of black hair and green jog suit. Vice replaced himself on the couch, where the wrathful Douji once was.<p>

"Fussa is gonna be pissed," Rage stated bluntly.

"What did you do now?" Vice questioned, chewing absentmindedly on the neck of the galbis bottle. "Went to a concert? Broke into a store and stole another guitar?"

"Girl."

The evil Douji chuckled. "What about it?"

"She's not human," Rage explained, sitting himself up on the floor. "At least I don't think she is. She's a different."

With those words, he could see Vice tense up slightly. Not out of fear, no. Vice feared nothing. "How different?"

" 'Making rotten, moldy mushrooms look like the sweetest and most delicious cupcakes' different." Rage smiled slightly as Vice shuddered to himself. The memory of crossing a different had yet to leave the epitome of evil. It was one of the very few times that Vice had ever been brought down a notch, and not by his own choice either.

"So, what are you gonna do about her?" the Ultimate evil questioned him.

"I don't know yet. She doesn't seem like the others. Not like Enit, though."

"What about Faylin?"

"No, definitely not. She's most likely from Enit's place, though." Rage stood, stretching out until he could hear the joints pop. "I just don't know exactly what she is yet. I won't hold my breath until then."

"Don't eat anything she offers you," Vice spoke monotonously, staring at the television. The other Douji smirked. Of all the times Vice could have pissed him off and there wasn't anything Rage could do about it, seeing the Ultimate Evil having to lean over a toilet as he regurgitated the worst of human garbage was surely a sight to see.

"I know."

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><p>It had been over a week since he had broken into the Strensky household, and Rage had yet to ease out from under Fussa's iron fist. As guessed, his Master was beyond irate, taking away many of his Douji's rights and freedoms around the house. He wasn't allowed to leave the house unless ordered to, wasn't allowed leisure activity, wasn't allowed anything unless his Master approved of it first. There was a concert coming up soon, so all he could do was practice and wait.<p>

"Fussa, I want a backstage ticket," he grumbled, toying with the guitar on his lap.

"If Vice wanted to get backstage, he doesn't need a pass for it."

"It's not for him," Rage retorted, trying to keep his anger in check.

"You are not using all your passes on the Douji."

"It's for Vivian."

Putting down his newspaper, Fussa raised an eyebrow. "Vivian?"

"Vivian Strensky."

"If she doesn't come, that's one pass wasted," the man replied, returning to his paper. "What makes you so sure that she'll come?"

"Why not? They are passes to see me, and maybe she's just as curious to know me as I am to her."

"Fine. She doesn't come, it's on your head." Rage gave himself an internal fist pump of triumph. Now, to get it to her.

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><p>Everything was in place now. The ticket and pass was secured safely into the envelope, along with a note from the Douji himself. He let Fussa park a few blocks behind the estate, making sure that Nicholas wouldn't be able to spot them if something should occur.<p>

Moving quickly, Rage kept himself out of sight, a careful eye on the lookout in case the man was spotted. He was allowed to continue uninterrupted once he decided the coast was clear, jumping up onto the first floor roof and move towards her window. The sun was not fully set yet, small rays on sun gleaming against her window. He couldn't see the flicker of candles just yet, but it would have to do.

Sliding the envelope through a small crack beneath, he tapped on the window four times and bolted. It didn't take long for him to get out of sight and back into the car. "Well?" Fussa questioned.

"I have my fingers crossed," Rage replied, fastening his seatbelt. As they drove past, he couldn't help but notice that the envelope was gone.


End file.
